The Heart Of Everything
by Tainted Visions
Summary: Sequel to In Sleep He Sang To Me. All is fair in love and war, and with the resurrection of the Dark Lord, Harry Potter finds himself trapped between both. SLASH. LVXHP.
1. Chapter 1

1**The Heart Of Everything**

**Rating**: M (Language, slash, violence, dark undertones.)

**Summary:** Sequel to _In Sleep He Sang To Me._ All is fair in love and war, and with the resurrection of the Dark Lord, Harry Potter finds himself trapped between both. SLASH. LVXHP.

**A/N: **Yay! Finally got this started! Hope you all like the sequel:) LOL, I know I actually had said that the title was going to be either "Fear The Dark" or "Behind Enemy Lines", but I thought this would be better. Especially now that things are going to get a lot more complicated for The Boy Who Lived and The Dark Lord. And thanks to everyone who read _In Sleep He Sang To Me_!

"**No, you'll never be alone. When darkness comes, I'll light the night with stars. Hear my whispers in the dark. No, you'll never be alone. When darkness comes, you know I'm never far. Hear my whispers in the dark. Whispers in the dark." – Whispers In The Dark, Skillet**

**Chapter 1: Whispers In The Dark**

The night was cold and chilly; a raging blizzard of rain padded the ground with ferocity, the small droplets colliding with the pavement harder than what it's nature would appear. Leaves hung from the trees almost limply, while droplets of rain fell from their sides. He could hardly even hear his own breathing, barely acknowledged his own existence; the sound was so loud, so distracting, he felt almost disconnected from the world; Although for a time, he had been. But no longer.

Though he was now the mere ghostly phantom he had been nearly seventeen years ago, he would soon regain his body. Except this time, he knew it would not be one of his followers – the Death eaters – or that idiotic Peter Pettigrew; No, now it would be the boy, the boy to which he had died for, the boy who had – ironically – been the reason he had experienced this in the first place. He had caused this seventeen years ago, and he had been the cause again. But this time, it had been he himself who had caused it more than anybody.

He had taken a curse – a deadly curse – for Harry, the boy who should have been dead when he had first turned his wand upon him. But he had lived. And now he lived while he had died, and over the course of these two long years in exile, clinging to the one hope that he would find a way to get in contact with Harry, he had realized that the prophecy had indeed been fulfilled – but against their wishes, and more importantly, against their will. Harry had not killed him; he had chosen to die himself.

He knew he could easily have let Harry taken the blow, disposed of the little brat who was his enemy once and for all, and killed Dumbledore with ease, no matter how strong his dark magic seemed to be, but something – his conscience – had pulled him back He had finally admitted his feelings, had come to accept them, and acted like the fools who love act – but he was Lord Voldemort.

He did not love.

Or at least, that was what he had always told himself. At first, he had thought it was weakness; Then he thought it was Harry's fault, the boy had somehow managed to get under his skin with trickery; But he knew those possibilities were impossible, very slim, and it was his own heart that seemed to be telling him things that were wrong, or else he pretended didn't exist. He was sure that Harry had those exact same feelings at the time, too. For once, they had completely understood each other.

He had never had anyone who understood him; Dumbledore had always pretended things would turn out all right or that the things he spoke of were just him being paranoid and over exaggerating, but he had known better – the older man just didn't want to be bothered with it, or else didn't care.

Either way, it didn't matter; He had found someone who had understood him, whether or not that person was his most hated enemy in the world. Somehow, he had found himself clinging to the boy like life support, and God knew how much he hated depending on someone else. He was independent, worked alone, operated alone, and most of all, was alone. He needed no one or anything, so why he had been dependant on the boy had at first troubled and angered him.

It still did. But he knew that there was advantages to it as well; Having your worst enemy, your most dangerous threat, in your pocket, like a puppet on a string, working and aiding you, would benefit in many ways. The boy was the wizarding world's savior, their chosen one, the one to rid them of the evil that was Lord Voldemort – him. But the boy hadn't done so. He hadn't saved anyone. Not even himself. And that would be his downfall, in the end.

Red eyes glinted in a series of green trees, the embodiment of nothing but air moving like a whisper in the wind, an unseen shadow upon the sky or ground. He moved through the forest slowly, imagining he could feel the ground beneath nonexistent feet, but he did not – could not.

He himself was non existent; A meaningless insect trailing through a large, empty world. An insignificant human being. That's what he was now, and he would remain that way unless he got the boy to help him. That was the only way.

He reached the edge of the forest and he stopped; Standing like a stiff stone not even twenty feet away, was Hogwarts, the school he himself and now Harry attended. He knew Harry was inside; His mind connection – however limited now – was connecting with the boy's mind, and he could tell he was asleep. How he had missed linking with the boy's mind, just to senses his presence, and he wondered if Harry had felt his these past two years, acknowledged any sign that he had still, somehow, lived through the curse that had temporarily killed him.

What exactly had happened to him even he didn't know, but he knew why he hadn't completely died. That alone had been Dumbledore's fault. The foolish old man had stabbed at Harry intent upon killing the Horcrux inside him with recklessness. He had fucked up badly. Very badly indeed. But it was Voldemort's advantage now, not his, and that made this all the easier.

He floated upwards toward the castle window, and peered inside. He could barely see anything through the opaqued window filled with misty rain, but he glimpsed four beds, three abandoned and one occupied. Excellent. No one else was around. He slid inside through the wall almost as though it were invisible, and stopped short of the occupied bed, gazing down at the boy with untidy jet black hair and vivid green eyes. Green eyes that were closed.

He smirked in amusement at the boy's awkward sleeping position; His arms were outstretched above his head at a right angle, one more far away than the other, giving it a more obtuse look; His mouth was slightly ajar, and the covers from his bed were strewn off the edge of the sheet, revealing his uncovered feet. How he longed to touch him; How he longed to reach out and stroke his hair as soft as a spider's legs. How he wished he could see those brilliant green eyes boring into his, stealing the life from them like he had those couple of years ago. Two years seemed too long. Way too long.

The boy gave a short gasp and rolled over on his side, kicking the covers completely off. Almost having an urge to smack the boy, the Dark Lord merely gave a dry chuckle and moved towards the boy's desk, his school bag lying upon it. He needed to know if Harry still had it, because if he didn't, this would be very difficult to do indeed. Without it – without the diary – it would be hopeless —

But it was there, as if fate had planned it. The book fell out onto the edge of the desk.

_Open_, he hissed.

The book – lying limp as though dead – suddenly shuddered with life and flipped as though a wind had emerged into the room onto a page somewhere in the middle, blank and unblemished. Behind him, Harry gave a snort as though awakening, but when he looked back, the boy was still very much asleep.

"Harry," He spoke gently.

As though his voice were an alarm, the boy's eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed, looking around the room as though expecting an attack. "Who's there?" He choked out, and his hands trailed underneath his pillow and out again, revealing his wand clenched beneath his fingers. "I'm armed!"

"Look at the book, Harry." Said Voldemort quietly, and he watched as Harry dropped his wand in utter shock and shot up from the bed and snatched the diary, looking around when he saw that it was blank.

"_Tom_..?"

"Yes," Answered Voldemort.

The boy's eyes immediately contracted. "But you're dead. And this page is blank! You lie!"

He closed his eyes and concentrated; the words would appear more believable to the boy when he looked at the book. "Look at the page now, Harry."

Though confused, the teen nodded and glanced down at the page, his eyes widening in shock as he realized now that it was written on. His face was flustered and pale under the moonlight. "I don't understand...is this really you, Tom...?"

"Yes, Harry," Replied Voldemort. "You cannot see me, but I'm here."

Harry looked up, shaken. "How? You're dead, I saw you die!"

"I did not die, Harry," Voldemort whispered patiently. "I died temporarily, but I am very much alive."

"But then why can I only hear you and not see you? And how did you survive?"

There was silence for a moment before Voldemort gave a heaved sigh. "When Dumbledore stabbed you, Harry, he thought he was destroying the Horcrux inside of you. He didn't. He destroyed your soul, not mine. And while he believed he had, and while he had killed me with that curse, it was only temporary. I didn't realize until last year that you still had the Horcrux inside of you. It's kept me alive. I am once again what I was those many years ago."

Harry swallowed, convinced. "Is that why... I've been felling so... empty..?"

"Yes." Said Voldemort, watching the boy closely; He noticed he had grown at least several or more inches the last two years. "Your own soul was destroyed, leaving mine intact. Luckily, there is a way for you to regain it back. You have to have complete remorse for killing Dumbledore. Once you've done that and restored your soul, I'll be able to work from there."

Harry nodded. "Are... are you going to be able to get a body?"

If he could have seen Voldemort's face, Harry would have seen him smiling. "That, actually, is where _you_ come in, Harry."

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**Hope you liked the first chap. More will be coming soon. Sorry to leave it on such a cliffe, but I thought it best to leave it there. Especially since there's a lot more to be explained. Plus, I want you all to ponder over all this new information and what it means... Chow! - Tainted Visions**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and for faveing my story. I really appreciate it. I'll try and get this done as quickly as I got **_In Sleep He Sang To Me_** done, especially with winter break coming up, and I'll have a lot of time. So, expect at least one chapter everyday or maybe even two. We'll have to see, though. :)**

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" **I'd give anything to give me to you. Can you forget the world that you thought you knew?  
If you want me, come and find me; Nothing's stopping you, so please release me. I'll believe, all your lies. Just pretend you love me. Make believe, close your eyes; I'll be anything for you." – Anything For You, Evanescence**

**Chapter 2: Anything For You**

There was nothing but the rain.

Harry stood stunned into silence, staring at the man upon whom he could not see. The book lay limp in his slacked hand, and he looked as though all breath had been robbed from him. They had been standing here in silence for almost half an hour now, and when Harry at last found the ability to speak, it came out in stutters. "I... er... I... _me_...?"

"Yes," Answered Voldemort, eyeing the boy with intent. "You alone, Harry, hold the key to whether I get a body or not. You have the ability to make me real again. Only you."

"How?" The boy inquired, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

"This might be a little confusing for you, so I'll explain it as best I can." The Dark Lord sighed and sat down on Harry's bed, unable to feel the cloth beneath him. Anger ripped through him; he wanted to _feel it._ He forced himself to speak again. "First, as I told you earlier, it revolves around whether or not you reclaim your own soul first. Once you've done that, there will be two souls in your body, your own, and mine. Your body will be exactly as it was before, except you won't be feeling so void of emotion or feelings. Once you've done that – reclaimed your soul – is where you come in handy for my rebirth; I'll need your blood, Harry. And most importantly, I'll need you to do the job Dumbledore could not do; I'll need you to kill the Horcrux inside of you."

Harry paled considerably. "But – ! But won't that kill you..?"

"No, Harry," Said Voldemort patiently. "It will actually enable me to live on." At Harry's perplexed look, he sighed again and elaborated. "I hadn't figured this all out until just a year ago. And what's funny is that Dumbledore never intended for me to find it out, either. You see, when I took your blood three years ago to resurrect myself, I created yet another connection between us – a blood connection. Through that, I have ensured that neither you nor I can die."

Harry's features remained uncomprehending, and Voldemort nodded. "Right. Well, this connection I established between us worked in the long run. Although you still had the Horcrux inside of you, enabling me life, the truth is that even without it, I would have survived anyway. This is why Dumbledore was so bent upon killing you and not so much me; He didn't want to kill you just because he'd realized you'd joined me and that our power great; He wanted to kill you also because he knew that if you lived, I would, too. He intended to kill the Horcrux, but was unsuccessful, so when he used that dark magic, he'd hoped he'd kill me by other means, thinking he'd destroyed the Horcrux. And after I was dead, he was going to kill you, but of course, that plan backfired."

Harry nodded. "I understand now. So he knew all along you and I shared this blood connection...?"

"Yes," Nodded Voldemort in Harry's direction. "But of course, he wanted that information withheld from you in case you ever decided to betray him."

"So he really _had_ been playing me..."

There was such emotion in Harry's voice, such hurt, that it took the Dark Lord almost completely aback. He could see the green eyes – which he noticed now looked dull and empty – well in what appeared to be tears, and flicker with life, but the boy brushed them away, and they eyes returned to being lifeless. He felt his throat constricted, and swallowed.

"Harry, I know how much this must hurt. He'd kept a lot of things from you, and he had no right to. He was supposed to be your mentor, aid you in keeping you alive and bringing about my destruction, but the whole time it was a ploy to cover up the truth; He knew you and I had equal power, because I had marked you myself as my equal, and he could only imagine the amount of power we could establish when combined together. He knew his master plan would go out the window if you ever decided to join me. Once again, Harry, Dumbledore was being selfish and manipulative towards someone he was supposed to love."

Harry looked up at him, and with such intensity, it looked as though he could sense directly where the Dark Lord's eyes were. "I know. He treated his own sister the same way. Was I a burden to him just as Ariana was?"

"I'm afraid I don't know," Said Voldemort gently. "He is the only one who knows for sure, but I do know this; His dream of 'The Greater Good' again blinded him to the fact that one life was worth the salvation of the lives of many. He felt that you could be disposed of as long as many others saved; Your life was to be sacrificed without a second-thought, because all your life was meant for was to kill me. You lived to die, Harry. He felt your life was meaningless, because you would be dead in the long run either way."

"I hate him," Snarled Harry, his fists clenching at his sides. "I hate him!"

"I know you do," Said Voldemort softly. "But Harry, if you hope to reclaim your soul, you're going to have to let that hatred go – put it aside – and feel complete compassion for killing the old coot, no matter how much he may have hurt you. You're the most compassionate soul I have ever known, Harry; Find that compassion within yourself and exist again."

This time, the tears were inpreventable; The boy gave a stifled gasp and tears descended from his dull, lifeless eyes which blinked with life before returning to impassive and down his face, and he crumpled to his knees, whispering hoarsely, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I killed him. I'm sorry. I hadn't mean to, I was just so mad, and I..." He choked, and his body shivered with the tears he had been repressing, tears that steadily turned into sobs.

The Dark Lord wished he could reach out a hand and comfort the boy, but his bodiless spirit merely grazed against the boy's cold skin, unable to feel him. Something like anguish pulled at his heart. "Look at me, Harry."

The boy looked up, and found the red eyes he could barely see. Red eyes found vivid green eyes, shining with life and every bit the emerald green he had always remembered them; it had worked.

"You did it. Excellent job, Harry." The Dark Lord spoke softly.

Harry rose to his feet, no longer shaking, and the tears were gone. "I... I feel...it worked. I feel... whole again.." He smiled. "You didn't lie to me."

"Of course not, Harry." Said the Dark Lord. "I told you, like I've told you many times before, that I speak the truth to you; Even now, I am not manipulating you or have some kind of 'hold' or 'control' over you. You regained your soul because you found that compassion. That's just who you are, and what I love so much about you. You're such an angel."

He moved closer to the boy, and Harry gasped and looked precisely at the place Voldemort's invisible hand lay upon his shoulder. "You... I can barely feel you, but... you're so_ cold_!"

"Yes," Said Voldemort sadly. "But if you decide to help me, I will not be invisible to your eyes; You'll be able to feel me just as you did before, and I'll be real. I will assure you that this is not just a dream, or a lie; It's real, Harry, and I ask of you to help make me real again."

The boy nodded and smiled, and he raised his right hand and placed it upon his shoulder, directly on top of the Dark Lord's own hand. "I know. I'll help you. I'll do it. I'll do anything for you."

Voldemort smiled. "Good boy. How I've missed you, Harry."

Harry stared at him, and it was as though he could see the red eyes gazing back at him, with such emotion such as his own. "I've missed you, too, Tom. Lord Voldemort."

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**Yay, Harry got his soul back. Next chapter, Harry resurrects Voldemort, but receives a slight shock as well. Exactly how the Horcrux is going to restore Voldemort will be explained next chapter, as that has a lot to do with it. Also, you may ask why Voldemort needs Harry's blood again. The answer to that is simple: Since his body was destroyed, he needs to use Harry's blood to restore him again. Hope that this has made sense to everyone thus far. I had to do a lot of thinking on how I would allow this to actually happen, because there's a lot of complications and plot holes with Horcruxes, since we know so little about them. I just hope it turned out okay anyway. XD**

**- Tainted Visions**


	3. Chapter 3

1**A/N: Hope you all enjoy, and clears things up for anyone who doesn't understand what's going on. :) Sorry for the long delay; Had writer's block. XD**

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"**Can you still see the heart of me? All my agony fades away when you hold me in your embrace. Don't tear me down for all I need. Make my heart a better place. Give me something I can believe." – All I Need, Within Temptation**

**Chapter 3: All I Need**

The forest remained damp and wet hours after the rain had stopped. Dawn was approaching beyond the horizon, little rays of sunlight peering through dispersing clouds, giving way to a bright blue sky, and warm, comfortable heat, not too scorching like the day before. The forest appeared vacant but for one figure, who at first notice would appear to be conversing to himself, but in fact was being joined by another, invisible person, a ghost-like phantom. Voldemort – his hated enemy. But of course, this fact had become hazed as well – Harry did not hate Voldemort. At least not anymore.

Stumbling over a large boulder, Harry nearly lost his footing, and he reached out and grabbed onto a tree trunk for support. He sighed, and looked directly at where the invisible man stood, almost as if he could see him."Wish I could see you. Then I would know how far ahead you are."

The Dark Lord glanced back at the boy behind him, and gave a small, dry chuckle in the back of his throat. "I'm not far, Harry. Less than a meter ahead of you."

"Good,"Harry ducked beneath a pair of vines before reappearing again. "Because I don't want to bump into you and knock you over."

Voldemort smirked. "Something of which I've actually done to people on many occasions."

Harry blinked and stumbled forward as Voldemort prowled ahead. "Have you?"

"Yes, Harry. I may be the Dark Lord, but I'm not completely infallible, as you know, nor am I above civilization and humanity; I am as civilized and normal as you are."

Harry smiled cheekily. "How normal is that?"

Amused, Voldemort shook his head. "I swear you have your mother's cheek. But to answer your question, I'd like to say not very normal."

Harry laughed, and continued forward, Voldemort slightly ahead. "Are we going to the cabin?"

"Yes," Replied Voldemort. "Fortunately, we will not be staying there long; I have a new, current place of residence. I was actually planning on letting you stay there those times we shared together..." He saw the boy blush a deep red out of the corner of his eye. "But I had wanted to be close to the school as well."

"What is it?" Asked Harry, his blush going redder still.

"My manor." Voldemort turned to face Harry. "The Riddle Manor."

"You have a manor?!" Exclaimed Harry, his mouth dropping open in shock. "Wow!"

Voldemort nodded and turned away again. "Yes. That's where my Death Eaters and I attend meetings, form our plots, etc. You get the point. It is my most private quarters, and I'd like you to stay there with me."

Harry gawked, and nodded slowly. "Yeah... yeah, of course.."

"Understand me, Harry," His voice was firm. "That means you can't go back and forth between me and your little friends or Hogwarts. Once you've decided, you've decided, that's it. I won't play any little games. Is that clear?"

The sharp tone made Harry flinch, and Voldemort almost took deep satisfaction in knowing that he still scared the boy. That made things all the more better, should the brat ever decide to betray him. He concealed a smirk. The best part about having someone under your wing was about keeping them in line. Control was his desire, and it pleased him to know he still had it over Harry.

He watched the boy closely as he stayed unresponsive for several minutes before glancing back at the castle that was his home, to the ground, and up at where Voldemort's eyes should have been. "Yes... yes, I know. I've decided. I want to stay with you."

"Good," Snarled Voldemort, "Because you know that I don't take treachery well."

Harry paled somewhat. "I – I know. I won't turn against you..."

"That's my boy," Voldemort purred, and he saw Harry's eyes glint at the praise.

"So how am I going to get you resurrected?"

"The process is fairly complicated, but nothing too complex. It's like it was three years ago, except instead of you continuing to have the piece of my soul inside of you, I need to reclaim it." Voldemort explained. Harry blinked in confusion

"How?"

"First, I'll need to get it back into me. But that's not the only thing I need to get the Horcrux out of you. I need to make sure I don't take your soul, so you'll need to be at the brink of death; Not completely dead, just at the brink, so I can see both souls inside of you. I'll need to enter your body, Harry. Like a type of possession. It will hurt you, hurt you enough that you'll wish to die, and only then can I see both souls and reclaim mine. But listen to me, Harry," Voldemort said firmly as Harry looked somewhat hesitant, letting Voldemort in his mind, and his eyes held fear, "I will not let you die. I promise you that."

The boy did not move or respond for a moment, stood frozen where he stood. He looked as if he was making up his mind about something; Then, a moment later, he nodded, and though he smiled, the Dark Lord could still feel the fear radiating off of him. "I believe you."

Voldemort said nothing, but gave a curt nod Harry could not see, and Harry took it as a sign to continue, so he too went ahead. They walked in silence for almost ten minutes before Voldemort broke it.

"Stop here," Said Voldemort suddenly, making a direct stop before the cabin and Harry followed his lead. "We should do the process inside the cabin. Could you get the door, Harry? I am quite unable."

"Yeah."

The boy pulled the door handle and the door opened, and he heard Harry's small gasp as the door opened further. Perhaps he, too, was remembering the memories they had...

Almost on cue, Harry turned, and when he did, there were sparkles of tears in his emerald eyes. "I'd almost forgotten what this place looked like."

"Yes,"Voldemort nodded, and Harry came out of his reverie almost at once.

"Let's make that potion."

He walked into the cabin first, and the Dark Lord closely followed. Voldemort spotted the ingredients lying just where he had left them: The bone of his father was lying on the table along the window-side, and lying smack in the middle of the floor was the cauldron to brew the body. Harry stopped and traced his hands along it, frowning. "Don't you need one of your death eaters's hands or something? Like Wormtail did?"

"No," Answered Voldemort, "Strictly because since I am using your blood, and will be using my own flesh, the Horcrux, Harry, we will not need to make it exactly like when I used your blood to make my previous body."

Though confused, Harry nodded. "So what do you need first?"

"I need you to use your want to set the cauldron aflame and drop in the bone."

Harry paled, but again nodded. Taking out his wand from his robe – Voldemort realized his hand was shaking – Harry used a levitation spell to drop the bone in, and the cauldron ignited at once. "Now what..?"

"Now I need your blood, Harry." Said Voldemort. Harry pointed his wand at his forearm and within seconds a small cut had erupted, and Harry pressed his thumb onto the bloodied point and let it fall from his arm into the cauldron. "Damn. I never figured out how to mend these, though."

Voldemort smiled. "Once we finish this, I'll gladly heal you, Harry."

Harry nodded, but now it seemed much more forced, and Voldemort knew that Harry's fear was growing steadier and steadier every passing second. The Dark Lord came towards him, and as he drew nearer, he saw Harry's whole body trembling. "Are you ready, Harry?"

In a choking whisper, Harry rasped, "Yes."

"It'll try to make it quick, Harry. Quick enough so I don't hurt you anymore." Voldemort promised gently. "I do not like to see you in pain."

Harry did nothing, just waited. Voldemort slowly entered the boy's body, and as his soul touched the boy's he heard him give a loud and pained gasp.

_I'll hurry, Harry._ He thought.

Within seconds, the boy dropped to the floor, giving agonized moans of pain. His eyes screwed up, and his body curved into a ball as he began giving sobs of pain. For a moment, Voldemort relished in it; He had his enemy in his grasp, experiencing such torture that not even the Cruciatius curse could provide, experiencing nothing himself as the boy began to slowly die inside. Something that he could not fail on... but he had promised himself he wouldn't kill Harry. At least not yet. Forcing his mind back to the task at hand, he realized Harry was nearing death; But he was not yet there. The Horcrux began to glimmer as death drew nearer, until he finally saw it, and the boy was breathing faintly, his eyes rolling in the back of his head...

He felt the soul reconnect with his and experienced a blast of pain as he was exited from the boy's body, the Horcrux safely latched on to the creator. He exited in time to see Harry's eyes close and body go limp. But he could not tend the boy yet. He must first get his body..

He dived into the cauldron, and felt many things began to layer, felt himself reform just as he had done three years ago, until he could feel that simple being of existence and opened his eyes. He found he could see, and the first thing he saw was Harry's limp form. He ran forward, not bothering to mammoth all of the senses as he had done before, and fell beside the boy.

"Harry, wake up. Harry!"

The boy did not stir.

"Harry!" Growled the Dark Lord. "Dammit, Harry, wake up!"

Still nothing. He pressed a hand directly over where Harry's heart was and found nothing; no beat, no thumping of the organ that kept him alive. Growing, he instead placed two index fingers to the side of Harry's neck, feeling for a pulse. There was none. Slightly panicked, he inhaled and pressed his mouth over Harry's, exhuming all of his own breath into Harry's still form. He retracted after a moment, and waited. Almost immediately, Harry coughed, and his eyes fluttered open, no longer in pain. Voldemort sighed in relief.

"I told you I wouldn't let you die."

Harry smiled, "You... you look... different..."His voice was low and weak, as though it hurt him to speak.

Voldemort took it upon himself to observe his new appearance; Standing, he stood before the mirror, and saw that Harry was right. He no longer looked like a crossover between a human and a snake; Instead, he had thick, brown hair that went to his neck, and blue eyes that had a slight trace of red in them, still. His nose looked normal, now, and his skin did not look stretched; It looked... like it had been before he had become the snake-like being he was. He turned to look at Harry, who was smiling in astonishment. He grinned at him.

"You like it?"

Harry nodded. "Definitely."

"Good," Answered Voldemort. "So do I."

He walked forward and brushed a hand over Harry's soft hair, his eyes gazing into Harry's. "It's nice to finally be able to touch you again." His hand trailed along Harry's cheeks, until his thumb was grazing over Harry's lightening-bolted scar. Harry smiled up at him, and Voldemort released him. "Let me heal your arm."

Harry nodded and extended his bleeding arm, and Voldemort used Harry's wand and muttered. Within seconds, the cut was gone, and Harry retracted it and smiled. "Thank you."

Voldemort nodded. "We should leave here now. But first, we must destroy all evidence."

Harry looked perplexed. "Why?"

"Because should someone find out you have resurrected me, there will be hell to pay, Harry; No one but you knows that I'm back."

Harry nodded. "Good point."

They walked out of the cabin, and seconds later with a flick of Harry's wand, the cabin burst into flame and crumbled to the ground. Voldemort glanced at it for several seconds more before turning his head to Harry. "Hold my arm. We're going to Apparate."

Harry gripped Voldemort's forearm, and the elder spun on his heel, and they were gone within seconds, leaving nothing but ashes lying in their wake.


End file.
